Star Wars: The Old Republic: Jedi Trials
by KnifeEdgeProductions
Summary: In the ten years between the Sacking of Coruscant and the death of the Sith Emperor at the hands of the Hero Of Tython, Jedi Padawan Kayne Karagi struggles to find peace after the death of his Master. With all out war looming on the horrizon, Kayne must learn what it means to be a Jedi, and join his fellow Knights in the defense of the Republic against the tyranical Sith Empire.
1. Chapter 1: The Sacking Of Coruscant

Star Wars: The Old Republic: Jedi Trials

Chapter One

The morning of the Sacking of Coruscant

Jedi Master Kelik Desto stood in front of a group of younglings that had gathered in the north courtyard of the Jedi Temple. He grinned as his eyes scanned the group. Through the Force, he could feel the raw potential in all of them. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands behind his back. "You have all been here for several months," he said. "And it's time you were assigned your Jedi Masters, and therefore begin your training as Jedi Padawans." A murmur of general excitement fell over the crowd. 'This means you'll be assigned missions, which you'll undertake at the discretion of the Jedi Council, or in some, rarer cases, the Senate."

In the front row of younglings stood a young human with a shock of messy brown hair and bright blue eyes, staring up at the Master with a smile on his face. Kayne Karagi had been brought to the Jedi Temple here on Coruscant a few weeks ago, having been discovered by Master Desto himself on a mission to Alderaan. The Jedi had sent him there to settle a dispute between two warring noblemen. The mission had turned sour, and one of the noblemen captured Desto, holding him for ransom.

It had been Kayne that had rescued him from the containment cell he'd been placed in. The son of one of the noble's advisors. Kayne managed to get into the prison block without much trouble. Having heard of the Jedi, Kayne had initially not exactly planned to free him, as he didn't want to get a beating. He'd simply wanted to meet a Jedi Knight.

~~Three Weeks Ago~~

_ Kelik sat in his cell, eyes closed in meditation. Having been disarmed, and stripped of all of his supplies, he fell into the Force, searching for a way out of this predicament. He had been in worse scrapes, though in many of those he'd had the aid of his old Padawan-now-Knight Rayth Wynn. Rayth was on Corellia teaching younglings at the Green Jedi Enclave, so there was no use trying to connect with him through the Force. It would take at least a day to get here from the Enclave anyway, and he doubted he had that long to live. He sighed. Opening his eyes, he took another look around the cellblock._

"_Won't do you any good, Jedi." The voice, low and gravelly, belonged to a larger than usual Trandoshan in the cell across from him. "You'd think you'd have noticed this, but the Thul guards here have been trained to resist Force persuasion."_

"_I hadn't planned on using the Force, friend." Desto said evenly. _

"_Giving up?" the creature scoffed. "Not too Jedi of you, Jedi."_

_Desto smiled. "I haven't given up. I simply haven't made my move yet."_

_ Suddenly the door to the cell block slid open with a loud whoosh, and a young boy walked in, key card in hand. Scanning the room, the child locked eyes with the crouched Jedi and approached him, eyes wide and grinning ear to ear. "Are you the captive Jedi Knight?" he asked._

_Kelik smiled at the boy. "Jedi Master." Suddenly, he got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't a feeling of dread brought on by his impending execution. No, this was something he'd felt many times before. This was the same feeling he got around beings that could manipulate the Force. 'What's your name, young one?" _

"_Kayne Karagi. My father's a servant of House Thul." He paused, looking down. "I guess that makes me a servant too." The boy made eye contact again. "So, what's your name?"_

"_Kelik Desto." He kept his gaze on Kayne, feeling the annoyance in the boy's Force presence. "What brings you down here, Kayne?"_

"_Don't tell me they're using children to bring us to the executions…" the Trandoshan growled. 'I didn't think even the Thul's were that sick."_

_ "N-no." Kayne stuttered, looking at the Trandoshan. "I just wanted to meet the Jedi before they had him killed." He looked back to Desto, whose face was no longer soft. His graying beard made it appear that he was scowling, and the wrinkles by his eyes seemed to give him a quiet strength. Somehow Kayne could feel the seriousness in the air, as if it were an electric buzz in his head. _

'_You've got to release me." Desto said flatly. 'I'm your only chance to escape a life of servitude. If you let me die, so dies your freedom. _

"_Freedom?" Kayne looked confused. "Why would you help free me?"_

"_Kayne," Desto sighed. "You have the potential to be a Jedi. The Force is with you."_

"_Me?" Kayne looked shocked. "A Jedi?"_

"_This keeps getting better…" the Trandoshan growled, watching the scene with an amused look on his green scaled face._

_ Without waiting for a response, Kayne slid the keycard into the lock by the Jedi's cell and the ray shield dissipated. Kelik stood and brushed off his trousers. He strode out of his cell and across the hall to stand before the Trandoshan. "It's dangerous out there." he said, nodding to the doorway. "I'll bet there are a bunch of armed men." _

"_Yeah?" the Trandoshan said. "And I take it you could use the muscle?" The creature laughed a raspy, reptilian laugh that made Kayne a little uncomfortable. "I'll need my blasters."_

"_Yes, and I have to retrieve my lightsaber and comlink before we leave as well." Desto looked at Kayne. 'Might you happen to know where they've put our belongings?"_

_Kayne nodded, a smile coming to his face. He pointed at a large strongbox in the corner of the room. "Your things are probably in there. Problem is, the keycard I used on the cell doors isn't compatible with the strongbox It uses an old metal key so that it can't be hacked."_

_ The Trandoshan smiled, and ripped the door from its hinges._

Master Desto had brought Kayne to Coruscant upon their escape, having stolen a Thul ship from a personal hanger with the help of the Trandoshan, who hadn't revealed his name until they were off-world and headed for the Capitol. Quim'ro had been a bounty hunter, and had given Kelik his com code, should he ever need a job done. They had parted ways at the space port, the two humans headed for the Jedi Temple and the Trandoshan toward the nearest bar.

'Becoming a Jedi Padawan is an important step in your growth in the Force. Upon achieving this rank you'll build your own lightsaber, as well as being provided off-temple housing. Your lives will change drastically, that much is true." Desto paused. "Jedi are selfless, willing to lay down their lives in defense of the innocent. Some of you will face hardships. Pain and loss are a part of everything, and you must understand this, so as to avoid the Dark Side of the Force."

In his first few days at the temple, Kayne had been told of the Dark Side, and of the Jedi's ancient enemies, the Sith, who had been destroyed three hundred years ago by Jedi Master Meetra Surik before her disappearance into the Unknown Regions. The Dark Side is what gives Sith their strength, stemming from anger, and the use of negative emotions and experiences to boost their power in the Force. The Jedi were practitioners of the Light Side, which was mainly used in defense of the weak, and shunned the use of negative emotions. Kayne wasn't sure he grasped the reason behind this. If the Dark Side was so powerful, why didn't the Jedi use that power? It felt like a waste.

"Master Rax Broga will take over the assigning of Masters." Desto said, nodding at a blue skinned Twi'lek male standing at his side. 'Karagi, come with me." He nodded at the boy and started toward the entrance of the temple. Kayne ran to catch up with him, staying behind him and to his right. "You've progressed quite far in your short time here, young one." Desto smiled over his shoulder. "If you'd like, I can oversee your training as a Jedi. You could be my Padawan learner."

Kayne looked as shocked as he had the day he'd learned of his connection to the Force. "Why me?" he asked. "There are others much further along in their training."

"Yes, there are." Desto agreed. "So, logically, you could use more attention."

"I- I would be honored, Master." Kayne choked out. "That'd be amazing."

A few hours later, Kayne and his new Master stood in front of the Senate building, the hoods of their brown Jedi cloaks drawn up. "We've been asked here for what, again?" Kayne asked, a clear hint of annoyance in his voice.

Kelik smiled. "Relax, Padawan." The way he said the word made Kayne tremble with excitement. _Padawan. _"You know you weren't supposed to take that saber out of the temple, right?" He looked at the simple shining hilt prominently displayed on the boy's belt. "Though, I understand your reason. ''I remember when I built my first lightsaber. I was so proud of it I 'trained for hours on the live remotes. I'll show you the scars someday."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry." Kayne said stiffly, and seemed to realize how not-relaxed that must have sounded. "We shouldn't keep the Chancellor-"

Suddenly a flash of light and fire erupted from the Senate building entrance, sending the two Jedi tumbling back. Desto managed a graceful midair flip and landed on his feet in a crouched combat stance, his lightsaber already in his hands, ignited, its violet light casting a luminous glow that seemed to cut through the fog created by the explosion. Reaching out with the Force, Kelik searched for his Padawan in the Force. The boy was only a few feet away, having not landed on his feet. He stood slowly, igniting his own training blade.

"Padawan!" Desto called. "You've only got a few hours' worth of training with that weapon. You'll be of no use in combat. Contact the Jedi temple and make sure the Council sends~" He let his words trail off as the smoke cleared. 'That can't be." He turned his eyes skyward, and his jaw dropped. There, in the sky above Coruscant sat dozens of huge starships. From their sides came a steady stream of smaller ships, fighters, landing craft and bombers among them, headed straight for the Senate building. In the distance Kelik could see another group of ships heading for the Jedi Temple. Smoke already rose from its spires.

Turning to Kayne, Kelik pointed to the space port. "Go. My ship is in hanger six B. My droid will let you on board. I want you to stay there until I contact you." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and ran into the Senate building.

Kayne swallowed hard, feeling a growing sense of unease creeping into his stomach. He hoped that it was nothing, and not the Force telling him he'd never see Master Desto again, but he didn't allow himself long to worry about that before breaking for the spaceport.

Another explosion rocked the Senate building as Master Desto rounded another corner. Down the hall from him, about thirty meters away, stood two armored humanoids brandishing blaster rifles. As he drew near, the men turned and fired a barrage of red blaster bolts in his direction, causing his advance to halt as he adopted a defensive stance and batted away the attacks. Reaching out with the Force, Desto focused on the soldier on the right, or rather, on his blaster, and tugged it to the side, spinning the soldier to face his comrade, and firing two shots into him. The soldier cried out in pain as he was launched into the wall due to the force of the blast. The remaining soldier let out his own startled cry, but it was cut short as a violet blade sliced through his chest.

Before moving on, Desto checked the attackers' armor for identifying markings. His eyes went wide as his eyes came upon the symbols on the shoulders of both men. It was a symbol he'd seen before in the Archives many times. _The Sith Empire. _

Stripping the bodies of their explosives and hooking them to his utility belt, Desto continued his race toward the Senate chamber, where he knew the senators would be held under guard. He hoped the attack on the temple was going better for the Jedi than this strike was proving to go for the Republic.

The Republic hadn't seen it coming. They'd been caught with their guard down in the worst way, and to be honest, Lieutenant Reina Keitan felt this war wasn't worth the Empire's time or recourses., though she had to admit a certain excitement had taken hold of her as she watched the invasion unfold from the bridge of the Star Destroyer Ziost Flame. She was the second in command aboard this ship, under Captain Oran Kent, though she, and a few others aboard, felt she had been the one that should be in charge, and to a certain extent, she'd hoped he would have done something to cost him his command during thi, though all indications were that he may be getting special recognition for a job well done.

A human female of average height, Keitan had been part of the Imperial navy for nearly six standard years and had been an officer for nearly two years, and had been transferred to the Ziost Flame two weeks ago, after the last second in command had been killed by an angry Sith. Keitan scowled, annoyed at the thought of the Sith. Those lunatics had been the reason the Empire had gone to war. The Emperor himself was a Sith Lord, and his Dark Council served as the enforcers of his will. Those without a connection to the Force were stepped over, considered lesser beings, even if they were human In lieu of having the Force, Keitan had decided to join the Military, proving to be an excellent tactician, blasting through the ranks.

"Lieutenant Keitan," came a voice from behind, "the invasion is proving to be a great success. We've simultaneously attacked the Senate building and the Jedi temple with strike teams consisting of both foot soldiers and Sith of varying rank."

Turning to face the voice, the Lieutenant nodded. "Very well. Now, we wait."

Kayne found the right docking bay and stared at the lock by the door. Without a thought he unclipped the training saber from his belt and ignited its blue blade, and jammed it into the control panel. The sound of electronics frying filled the air and the door opened with a hiss, granting the young Jedi entry. In the bay sat a rather nice looking Defender-class starship, painted deep blue with gold trim.

Master Desto ran past crowds of screaming civilians as he made his way to the Senate chambers, eventually reaching the doorway and raising his lightsaber, ready for a fight.

Before he could react a sharp pain struck the small of Kelik's back, launching him forward, over the railing of the observation walkway and tumbling down to the floor of the senate chamber, crashing into several of the Senate float stands as he went. He landed on his back on one of the lower platforms, which was luckily empty. Standing and looking back up in the direction of the strange attack, he saw its source. Standing there, looking down at him from under a black robe, was a red-skinned female that Desto recognized with shock, as a Pureblood Sith. She leapt down from the observation walkway landing in front of the injured Jedi, who ignited his saber again and stood in a limp defensive stance. "Sith." he declared.

"Yes, Jedi." Her voice was silky, almost mesmerizing. "We have finally returned, and your puny Order will not stop us."

She lunged forward igniting her lightsaber and jabbing at her opponent's midsection. Kelik took a step back and parried her strikes, his balance compromised by the nasty fall and shock damage he'd taken, so his defense was awkward and sloppy, and he was barely able to keep her blade away from his flesh.

Suddenly two Republic soldiers came to the Jedi's aid, appearing from the observation walkway, firing at the Sith and forcing her to back off and focus on them for just long enough for Kelik to blast her with the Force, sending her to the ground level, crashing to the floor with a loud thud. He leapt back up to the observation walkway and nodded to the soldiers in thanks. Turning back toward the Sith he unclipped one of the thermal detonators from his belt and pressed the button, holding onto the grenade until the Sith began to move, and then tossing it at her. "Now we leave!"

The loading ramp to Master Desto's ship lowered and Kayne ascended the ramp and pressed the door com. "Padawan Karagi here. Master Desto told me to stay in his ship."

After a moment a reply came. "Where is Master Desto, young one?"

"He's at the Senate building. There was an explosion."

"Understood."

The door hissed open and Kayne entered the ship, shedding his brown cloak and tossing it aside. Master Desto's droid approached him. "Young master Karagi." he said. "I am C2-A4. I'm a steward droid. Is there anything I can get you while we wait for Master Desto's arrival?"

"No, thank you, CeeTwo. I'll just meditate." Kayne replied and went to the cargo hold while the droid resumed its work.

Kayne sat cross legged in the cargo hold, eyes closed, trying to meditate. Dozens of thoughts raced through his head, keeping him from relaxing. What was happening, exactly? Who were these attackers, and what was going to happen to the Jedi? To the Republic? He realized he was trembling, and his eyes opened. No nine year old, Jedi or no, should have to go through something this traumatic. This was war, and that terrified him.

A dull thrumming noise woke Kayne abruptly, who didn't remember having fallen asleep. He stirred and got to his feet, stretching awkwardly. Walking to the galley, he saw that CeeTwo was at the Comm station. A holographic image of Master Desto stood awkwardly, as if injured. "Master?"

The holo turned to look at the child, one eye shut, a fresh cut over it. "Padawan…" Master Desto said quietly. "You're currently in route to the planet Tython, ancient home of our Order, as is the decree of the remainder of the Jedi Council and Republic Senate."

"And you?" Kayne asked.

Kelik smiled. "Unfortunately not, young one." He paused. "Our paths aren't the same. I have work to do. I've arranged for my former Padawan, Jedi Knight Rayth Wynn to take care of your training.

'Take care of my training?" Kayne frowned. "What are you talking about?" Even though he was untrained, he could feel the tension in the Force. "Why can't you do it?"

Master Desto sighed, closing his eyes. "Young one, the coming days are going to be difficult. You'll go through hardships that I couldn't have fathomed at your age." A smile graced the man's face. "But there will also be good times. You're a Jedi, and the Jedi stand together." He nodded to CeeTwo and the droid swiftly exited the room, leaving the two alone. "I have a gift for you." He nodded at a footlocker in the back of the room. "Inside, you will find my first lightsaber, as well as a Jedi holocron that I've constructed for this very occasion. You may use it to further your training while you travel to Tython, or if you simply require my guidance at any time over the years."

Kayne could feel something calling to him from inside the durasteel locker, radiating with the familiar feeling he had in the presence of his Master. "Is this goodbye, Master?" he asked somberly. "I mean, I wouldn't be a Jedi without you, and now I'm headed off-world and you're- well, you're not." He ran his hand over the lid of the locker, hearing the lock pop in response to his touch, and the door slid open, revealing a small cube adorned with several ornate designs, and a simple lightsaber hilt, the crystal chamber shown through a clear portion of the hilt, just above a grooved leather grip, showcasing a honey-colored auburn crystal. "The way you're talking, and giving me these things, it's like you don't plan on ever seeing me again in person."

"Try not to think about that, young one." Desto said. "You must concentrate on the here and now. The Sith have attacked the capitol of the Republic. A strenuous peace has risen from the ashes of Coruscant, but I don't want you to be fooled, Kayne."

"Fooled?" Kayne didn't know much about the Sith Empire. They'd only recently resurfaced, having taken back Korriban and carving a swath of destruction through Republic space in the last few months alone. Apparently they'd been involved in a long-standing war against the Jedi and all others who practiced the light side of the Force.

"The Sith are sly, and deceit is second nature to them. An offer of peace is clearly a ruse. In the years to come, I know you'll cross paths with them. The holocron I created contains information on lightsaber forms, as well as certain more advanced Force techniques that, should you keep up your studies, you should have no problem mastering." Desto smiled. "Now, I've got some things I have to take care of, so I've got to leave you to prepare for arrival on Tython. You'll be receiving a transmission from the Grand Master soon. May the Force be with you, Padawan."

Master Desto clipped the comlink back to his belt and raised the hood of his robe, ducking into a dark alleyway and suppressing his Force presence. He knew he was being followed, and he could feel the anticipation of his pursuers in the air, so thick he felt he could cut it with a vibroblade. Calling on the Force, he did what he could to ease the pain that still shot through his shoulder. A dull pop accompanied a sharp stabbing pain as he forced he popped it back into place, and the pain started to subside.

Several minutes passed without incident, and Kelik had begun to think he'd shaken his predator, before two hooded figures appeared at the end of the alleyway, both igniting crimson lightsabers and pointing them at their prey. "Jedi…" one breathed, pure distaste accompanying the word, the hate clear in her voice. "Your little grenade isn't nearly enough to stop me. I am Sith, fool, and it takes much more to kill one of us."

The other Sith made a sound that resembled garbled laughter, though Kelik couldn't make out his features, as they were silhouetted currently. "And from the looks of it, you're injured, Jedi." More garbled laughter. "A pity. I was hoping you'd be in better condition.'

Without waiting for a response, the female Sith leapt forward, coming down on her prey with a vicious overhand strike, which, had he not sidestepped, would have cleaved him down the middle. Igniting his lightsaber and digging in, Desto parried her strike, slashing at her legs. The Sith deftly blocked the attack, and a wash of sparks flew as her crimson blade intercepted his violet one. She let out a throaty cry as she once again went on the offensive, driving the weakened Jedi back with a quick series of thrusts and slashes, his one-handed defense barely able to keep up with her onslaught. Thinking quickly, Desto leapt back and thrust his injured arm forward, calling on the Force for all he was worth. The ensuing shockwave caught the Sith in the chest, propelling her backward with a cry of alarm. Her lightsaber slipped from her grip and clattered to the metal walkway, automatically powering down with a sharp _hiss. _

Acting purely on the momentum gained by the surprise attack, Desto called her weapon to his free hand and advanced on his defenseless prey, bringing both lightsabers down on her, but rather than hearing the sound of cauterizing flesh, Desto was met with the sound of a lightsaber blocking his killing blow. The male Sith, now clearly another pureblood, had come to his partner's defense. Refusing to lose his momentum, Desto kept the assault going, focusing now entirely on the male, who didn't seem to have much trouble bobbing and weaving around his aggressor's attacks. Flicking his wrist, he swung his lightsaber in the direction of Desto's off-hand, knocking his partner's blade free, and into the waiting hand of his now-recovered partner, who now decided to make her own advance, once again driving Desto back into the alley.

Suddenly a volley of blaster bolts rained down on the female, causing her to break off her assault and turn in defense. Three republic troopers had appeared, choosing now to make their move, and Desto silently thanked them, using this opportunity to strike, shoving his lightsaber through his attacker's back, and she cried out in agony before falling limp off of the Jedi blade with a hard thud. The male, now enraged by the death of his partner, shoved his free hand forward, sending a massive shockwave crashing into the soldiers, sending them screaming over the edge of the walkway, falling into the abyss.

Turning on the male, cursing to himself, Desto made another attempt to gain some ground, managing to score a tiny victory, pushing the Sith back, as well as giving him a decent sized burn scar on his cheek. The Sith howled in rage and thrust his arm forward, sending a nearby dumpster crashing into the unsuspecting Jedi Master. The dumpster made solid contact with Desto's head, earning a loud clang and making him see flashes of white. His lightsaber flew from his hand, following the unfortunate trajectory the Republic troopers had taken.

Kelik hit the ground with a hard crash, and he could tell he had a concussion, as his mind was swimming. This Sith wasn't a pushover, that much was obvious. Almost before he had registered hitting the ground, the Sith had him by the throat, slamming him roughly into the alley wall. A cacophony of pops and cracks rang in the air as the Jedi's bones shattered. His spine broken, Desto began to run through his options, but none seemed feasible in any sense. He had been disarmed, and was clearly in no condition to fight this Sith, whose Force presence had increased tenfold upon the death of his partner. "Seems I've-" He coughed blood, making a mess of the Sith's sleeve. "It seems I've struck a chord with you, Sith…" He drew a ragged, pained breath.

The Sith growled and tossed the broken Jedi to the ground, lowering his hood. He had jet-black hair slicked back with some sort of gel, and his appearance gave off a refined vibe. His bright red skin almost looked human, for he lacked any of the tell-tale tendrils that purebloods normally had on their faces. "I am Darth Xela." The Sith's voice boomed with anger. "I am a Sith-Human hybrid, in case you were wondering." He let out a humorless chuckle, gripping the Jedi's throat with the Force and lifting him off the ground. "And I am your executioner, as I have been for many Jedi today."

_Now_

Thrusting both arms forward, channeling the Force as best he could, he sent the Sith tumbling backwards over the walkway railing, though not before being pulled after him. The two combatants fell together, Desto having gone completely limp, the last of his energy having left him. Both of the men landed on top of a passing garbage transport ship, Xela landing gracefully while Desto likely broke even more bones as he crashed into the steel ship.

"Enough!" the Sith shouted and thrust his arm forward. Tendrils of blue lightning snaked from his finger tips and struck the crippled Jedi in the chest, causing him to scream out in agony, the force of the lightning launching Desto off of the transport and into the fog below.

Donning his hood once more, the Sith leapt to the nearest landing platform, landing with as much grace as he could manage, his composure faltering for a moment, and he allowed himself another laugh. He had seen this many times in his dreams, and today he, and the Empire as a whole, had struck a blow against the Republic that they wouldn't recover from swiftly. The Jedi were scattered, the Chancellor and many senators were dead, and the Sith casualties were barely in the hundreds compared to the thousands of dead Republic soldiers, citizens and Jedi. "Today will be a day long remembered." Xela smiled menacingly and began to walk toward the burning Jedi temple.


	2. Chapter 2: Bindings

Chapter two: bindings

Ryloth, three days after the sacking of coruscant

It was dark when they came. The door to Dia's room burst open and her father entered, followed by Dia's older brother, Tol.

"Get up, Dia!" her father said, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

"What's going on, daddy?" the young Twi'lek asked, rolling out of bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She could hear loud noises coming from the other side of the house.

"Men have come here, little one…" Her father knelt and looked her in the eye. "_Slavers." _He almost spat the word.

"They're raiding the village…" Tol spoke in an emotionless monotone.

Dia's father crouched below the room's lone window and peered through the blinds, swearing under his breath. "There are more of them in the streets.

"What are we-". Dia's words were cut short by the sound of a loud _CRACK! _

"Jackpot." The speaker was human, though that could be argued against, based on the many disfiguring scars the man sported on his wide face. He was tall, and all muscle, and currently holding a scattergun to Tol's back. "Red-skinned ones sell for a pretty penny. 'Specially with the Imperials, these days."

For a moment, it looked to Dia as if her father was about to make some sort of move against the slaver, though he appeared to think better of it. "Why are you doing this to us?" There was no fear in his voice, though it was clear he was afraid.

"Credits, mostly." The slaver took another step forward, pressing the barrel of the scattergun into the back of Tol's neck, just below the base of his skull. "And before you say it, no, you can't bribe us. You and your kids are worth a _lot _more than you can afford." The man chuckled, as if amused by the pleading stares of the two Twi'leks facing him.

He nodded at Dia and gestured with the scattergun for her to stand beside her brother. "Turn." he told Tol, the mirth gone from his voice.

Dia stayed where she was. Looking at her father, she saw that his eyes were fixed on her. "Y-yes sir…" The words came as barely more than air. Slowly the child fell in next to her brother. She glanced up at him, as if looking for support, and she finally noticed the twin veins of blood running down his chin. He'd bitten his lip, as if to keep himself from talking.

The slaver pressed the barrel of the scattergun hard into Tol's chin now, the adolescent boy standing only a foot shorter than him. "Got something to say, _slave?" _

Tol spat a mouthful of blood at the slaver. "Jump in a sarlaac pit, poodoo."

Before Dia could blink, Tol was on the floor, the slaver having struck him with the butt of the rifle. She watched in horror as he went down, clutching his head and struggling to stand back up, but before he could get to his knees, the slaver's boot caught him hard between the shoulders, knocking him flat.

"Tol!" Dia's father shouted and rushed to his son's side.

_Boom! _

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The slaver hadn't expected Dia's father to move, and had reacted with force. The aging Twi'lek sprung forward, maybe in an attempt to cover Tol from any further beating, or perhaps he'd decided to attack the slaver. Either way, Dia didn't know.

The slaver had turned the scattergun and fired a single blast, catching the man in the chest and flinging him back against the wall. He flopped to the floor in a heap, smoke rising from his chest. Dia screamed, but she couldn't hear herself over the ringing sound in her ears.

"One less slave." The slaver chuckled again.

"Papa!" Dia shouted and rushed to his side. She screamed in Ryl, a plea for her father to be alive, maybe. Of course, the man reeked of burnt flesh, and some part of Dia knew he was dead. Tol was silent, still pinned under the slaver's boot. It didn't take long for it to register that she had suddenly become alone in a room with a man who had just proven that he wasn't afraid of taking a life.

"On your feet, little girl." The slaver finally lifted his foot off of Tol's back. The boy didn't move.

Dia stood, keeping her eyes on her brother, and approached the slaver, hands raised in defeat. "Just, please," she began, lips trembling. "Don't hurt him anymore."

"You're not in any position to make requests, little lady." To illustrate his point, the slaver stomped hard on Tol's left lekku, finally eliciting a response from the young male, in the form of a scream.

Then everything slowed down again. Dia's vision blurred, and the sound of Tol's screams filled her mind. She could feel his pain buzzing in her skull, and she let out a scream of her own. It was a primal roar, from the deepest part of her young soul. "_Stop!" _she shouted. "Stop hurting Tol!"

What happened next came as a surprise to the slaver, though he had less than a second to actually be surprised before he was flung back out of the room and down the entire length of the short hallway leading to the living area. He crashed into the durasteel wall with enough force to break his spine.

"Dia…" Tol sucked in a ragged breath as he got to his knees. Scanning the room for his sister, he struggled to steady his vision. "Dia…" he called again.

Dia's response came in the form of a soft thud. She lay on the floor a few feet away from him, eyes closed.

Standing on shaky legs, Tol retrieved the dead slaver's scattergun and a short knife he'd hidden in his boot before seeing any of the slaver's companions. There were two of them, and neither had appeared to have heard the commotion, which Tol would've found odd had he given it any thought. As it was, he was more concerned with getting his sister out of here alive. He hadn't seen what had happened, but he'd _felt it. _He'd never met a Force user, but he was sure that was what Dia had done.

The only problem with Dia's powerful display was that it had left her drained. She would be of no help to him in their escape. In fact, now he had to carry her, along with the heavy blaster rifle. _This day just keeps getting worse._

Moving as quietly as he could, Tol scooped up his unconscious sister and crept through the living area, strewn with various objects that had belonged to their family. He made no move to retrieve anything as he circled to the front door, staying in the shadows. He could hear the voices of the other two slavers down an adjacent hallway. They were probably in his room now.

The scene outside was worse than he'd expected. Blasterfire filled the air, accompanied by the sounds of dozens of screams. More villagers had fought back, it seemed, and all hell had broken loose. The Twi'leks that weren't shot on site were being rounded up and carted off in dozens of dropships. Tol had never seen so many ships in his life. _Keeps getting easier…_

Picking a direction at random, Tol ran as fast as he could for the tree line. He'd had a little bit of experience as a hunter, and now it was time he learned how the creatures he'd hunted felt. As he neared the tree line a blaster bolt streaked over his shoulder and struck the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Get back here, Schutta!" one of the men shouted.

"Kell!" the other man shouted. "We already killed one of them! The red ones are worth too carking much to waste another! Set to stun!"

Tol breathed hard, and his muscles protested as he ran. Reaching the first row of trees, he began looking for a safe place to leave Dia while he… _While he what? Killed two armed slavers? _

Finding a decent sized tree a few yards into the wood, he leaned his still sleeping sister against its trunk. Sighing, he hefted the scattergun, testing its weight. He'd never fired a gun before, and he had a few serious doubts about his ability to kill. He heard leaves crunching nearby, and decided he'd find out if he could do it soon.

It happened so fast, and the darkness made it hard for Tol to see anything at all. The slaver had attempted to sneak up on the young Twi'lek, and now that he'd gotten close, he'd struck, armed with a combat knife, the slaver, this one wiry and fast, moved in to slash at Tol's face. Tol attempted to bring the scattergun to bear, but the old rifle weighed too much, and the slaver was too close for Tol to get a good shot off.

Thrusting his palm upward, the slaver took his opponent off the ground, sending his rifle off into the darkness. Tol managed to regain his footing and swung at the slaver as hard as he could, but the man was too fast, ducking under the attack and slashing at the Twi'lek's exposed underarm, but he snapped his elbow back at just the right moment, and the slaver's knife fell to the ground.

And then what felt like the surge of electricity passed through Tol's body, and he tried to scream, finding that he couldn't speak. No, he realized. He couldn't move at all. The other pursuing slaver had snuck up on him while he'd fought and gotten the better of him. He blacked out before hitting the ground.

Tol's whole body hurt. Maybe it was the stun blast he'd taken he didn't know how long ago, and maybe it was the beating he'd received when the slavers had first arrived. He didn't know, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he was currently chained to a mattress in a grey, featureless cell. All around him sat other people from his village, as well as some he'd never seen. He wondered if Ryloth had been the first stop.

In an adjacent cell, still asleep, leaning against the back wall, was Dia. At least he knew where she was. He sighed, taking comfort in that, at least. He had failed to keep her safe from the slavers. In fact, she had saved _him. _No two ways about it.

_And the way she did it._

"So big red finally wakes up." The voice belonged to the slaver called Kell. He stood just outside the cell, arms crossed over his chest. "If it were up to me I would've shot you dead back on Ryloth. You got lucky."

_Lucky?! _Tol wanted to scream. He wanted to tear out the bastard's throat and feed it to a pack of kath hounds. "Yes, sir."

"You caused quite a bit of trouble trying to get away. Killed one of our boys, too." He paused, as if thinking back on the mangled corpse of his comrade. "Any idea how that kill went down?"

"My father did it. When the shockwave hit, the scattergun went off and killed him." Tol said without missing a beat. "The shock of seeing our father shot at such a close range made my sister faint."

For a moment it seemed as if Kell had been thinking about the legitimacy of Tol's story, but he simply shrugged. "Doesn't bother me either way."

"Where are you taking us?" Tol fixed his eyes on the floor.

"You're going to market, slave." A twisted grin played across his face. "On Dromund Kaas."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Servitude

Onboard a dropship in route to Kaas City

A steady _thrum _woke Dia. As she slowly regained consciousness, she struggled to identify her surroundings. For a moment she felt weightless, and realized that this was because her brother had her cradled in his arms as if she were an infant. They were packed shoulder to shoulder in the dark, quiet infantry bay of a dropship. "Tol…" she whispered. "Where are we?"

Tol didn't respond straight away. He allowed himself a moment to simply enjoy hearing Dia's voice again. "You're going to need to be very brave for me, little sister."

"Are we slaves now?" Dia asked, her voice barely loud enough to be heard above the engines.

Tol didn't want to respond, didn't want to admit it to _himself, _let alone his young sister. "Yes, Dia…" he said, his voice wavering slightly. It was a miniscule shift in his tone, but to any of the other slaves within earshot, it served as a reminder of how young the boy actually was.

_Twelve standard years ago Tol had come screaming into the galaxy, and he'd lived for eight years as an only child before Dia had come along. Her birth had changed everything, and a part of Tol missed the years before she had been born. Things had been simpler back then. _

_Tol's mother had been such a kind woman. She was always so optimistic, always thinking of new, creative games to keep him entertained, always stayed up with him when he had nightmares, sometimes into the early hours of morning._

_And then Dia had been born. Their mother had gone into early labor. The village doctors, two young humans from the Core Worlds, had done the best they could, or at least that's what they had said. Tol had his doubts, on the matter._

_After spending almost an entire day in labor, the doctors managed to deliver the baby. Dia was small. She looked almost like a child's toy in their arms.__And then the bleeding started. Tol was rushed out of the room by his father. He spent the next few hours in his room before one of the doctors came to speak to him. The man was pale, and looked as if he'd been sweating. "Son, there's been a problem."_

The dropship shuddered, bringing Tol back to himself. The door to the cockpit hissed open and the slaver he'd fought with on Ryloth emerged. "Unless you want to be shot, slaves, you'll exit this ship calmly, and without incident. Are we clear?" the man said evenly.

A murmur rose from the slaves as the dropship touched down. When the doors slid open, Tol was met with the thick stench of swampland. The city around them rose for thousands of kilometers. Buildings of varying shapes and sizes towered all around the slaves as they disembarked. In the center of the landing bay stood a tall figure wearing a dark robe, hood drawn up. He was flanked by two heavily armored Imperial soldiers brandishing blaster rifles. The robed man stepped forward to meet Kell and the other man, both of whom wore satisfied grins.

"Gentlemen," the man's voice sounded strange to Tol's ears. It was both melodic and garbled. "What have you brought me this time?" Tol couldn't see the man's face below his hood, but he sounded like he was smiling.

"Twi'leks from Ryloth." Kell said, followed by a momentary pause before he added a quick "my Lord". He stood straight as an arrow, and in the dim lighting of the hanger, Tol swore he could see the slaver sweating "Feel free to take a look at the stock, my Lord."

The man made no move to inspect the slaves. "What are your names, gentlemen?" he asked, not budging.

The slavers exchanged glances. "Uh, I'm Kell, and that's Garth." Kell said, after a second's hesitation.

_My Lord. _Tol thought. _So he's a Sith Lord. Great. A lifetime of this now…_

"We're part of a major trade group interested in doing long term business with-"

The Sith gestured with his hand and Kell's words stopped in his throat. He slowly reached for his Adam's apple, as if he couldn't breathe. The Sith must have been using the Force, Tol decided. By now Dal had regained full consciousness and was staring just as intently as everyone else in the room was. Even the soldiers looked interested.

"I did not ask for your employer."

Kell gasped for air. "_Please!" _he gasped. _"Please!"_

Kell dropped to his knees and gasped, clutching his throat tightly now, completely unable to breathe. The Sith simply stood there, looking down at the heaving slaver. Through it all, Tol and Dia kept their eyes on the Sith. "Some of these slaves would prefer it if I just snapped your neck." He paused. And he looked right into Dia's eyes. His gaze darted between the girl and her brother. Tol couldn't look away from the Sith. His features were still mostly hidden by the black hood draped over his head, but Tol could see his eyes. They might once have been human, though now they glowed an unnatural yellow. His lips were twisted in a scowl.

_"__Kill him." _At first it had sounded like Dia had said the words. She'd said it barely loud enough to be heard. Only Dia hadn't said it. Tol realized first that her lips hadn't moved. The Sith's gaze locked on the youngling. _"Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!"_

_Pop!_

The sound had barely been audible, but Tol could almost _feel _it. Kell slumped forward, falling lifelessly to the durasteel floor. As if routine, the Sith's two escorts stepped silently forward and began to drag the body away.

"Now," the Sith began, striding toward Tol and Dia, blatantly ignoring the rest of the stock until he stood face to face with the young male. Tol could see him clearly now, though some part of him wished he hadn't. The Sith's features seemed human on the surface, but there was an alien-ness to it. From a distance, the man had looked younger than he did up close. "Let's have a look."

Tol could barely bring himself to look the Sith in the eyes. It wasn't out of fear, or loathing or anything of the sort. The man was _wrong. _In all of the sentient beings Tol had met in his life, he had been able to see certain things, little things, which made them who they were. People's lives were full of little things.

This Sith was empty. A human, the Sith looked as though he should have been in his forties. The man was tall, and clearly muscular. Tol swallowed hard, keeping his eyes aimed over the man's shoulder, not daring to make eye contact.

"You." The Sith reached forward and grasped Tol's chin, turning his gaze so that he was mere inches from the young man's face. "Tell me your name."

"Tol, my Lord." Tol said, silently damning his vocal chords for shaking.

"Tol what?"

"Just Tol, my Lord. Family names are irrelevant now."

The Sith's eyes darted to Dia. "It would appear your sister disagrees."

Tol was about to ask what the Sith meant when he stopped himself. Looking down at Dia, he saw that she was glaring at the Sith, eyes burning with anger. What had he done to set the youngling off? The way she was looking at him, Tol wondered if she might be close to another Force attack, though something about this was different. She just stared at the Sith, unmoving and unblinking.

"Name?" the Sith asked after a long staring contest with the girl. Something in his voice was making Tol very uneasy.

"Dia."

The Sith smiled, and Tol's sense of unease thickened. "You have interesting names." he said. "Fire," he said, eyes returning to Tol for a split second before returning to Dia. "and ice." He turned and began walking the length of the line, barely taking note of the other slaves. "Let us see if your names suit you." He tossed a coin purse to Garth. "Twenty thousand credits should do." he said. "Take the rest to auction."

Turning, the Sith began to walk at a brisk pace toward a waiting closed-cab hover taxi at the far end of the hanger. Tol and Dia fell in behind him silently, staying a respectful distance back as they went. As they reached the cab, Dia spoke up.

"What's your name?" the youngling asked evenly, either forgetting or disregarding the '_my Lord'._

The Sith looked at her over his shoulder, and Dia could see the faintest traces of a grin at the corners of his mouth. "You're very brave to be speaking to a Sith Lord of my standing in such a tone, youngling." He faced forward again. "I am Lord Grathan, and you two are going to be of great use to my organization."


End file.
